WHOA NELLY, GIDUP

As I shift back into my pre-diagnosis schedule that includes fewer and fewer doctor appointments and more and more getting back to life, I’m finding myself with less and less time and inclination to post to the blog. (Actually, it probably more due to the fact that the last season of Lost came out on DVD and now all my nights are spent watching that, but still…) But I do owe you all an update of the fun events of the past few weeks:
Ireland was, not surprisingly, awesome. T, Lisa & I had a great time touring around for several days before my meeting started. We even had wonderful weather and many days of blue skies. Highlights included Killarney National Park, staying at the Lake Hotel, driving around the Dingle Peninsula, taking a “jaunting car” up the Gap of Dunloe with a driver named Paddy and a horse named Nelly (seriously), and of course, hanging out with Lisa & Tracey. We also had a fantastic turnout for Team TigerOx at the Race for the Cure. Denver has the biggest race in the country, so we were there with over 65,000 other people. I missed all of the ceremony stuff at the end, which might have been for the best, as I’ve not quite embraced the pink ribbon club as my own yet, but I was a little disappointed I was too late to get all of the free survivor merchandise. I mean really, a crappy 9 months should at least earn me a Starbucks gift card.
Throughout this whole thing, I have always looked to my birthday as a milestone when I would be better. And with the trip to Ireland, the race, and the party all falling within a few weeks of October 7th, it just confirmed the expected transition in my mind. Physically, I’m doing great, as indicated from the ever-increasing poofiness of my hair (hair-related comment heard frequently: “It really has a mind of its own, doesn’t it?”). Mentally, though, I feel like I’m grappling to get up the cliff of this middleplace.
It was overwhelming, for example, to be thrown back in with the Leadership Council (the meeting in Ireland). As I think I said once, the group is probably best described as like The Apprentice without getting fired—these folks are extremely bright, incredibly motivated and ambitious. I don’t know if it’s because while they’ve been cruising along in the fast lane this past year I’ve taken an off-ramp into a town best situated in a Stephen King novel, or because I’ve lost some of my confidence, or what, but I felt like I was on a different planet than they are. I feel this disconnect with a lot of people (sometimes even myself, if that make any sense). I don’t know if I just want credit for my foray into Crapville, or that I just think about things differently now, or something else I can neither explain nor understand.
There was a point at one of the dinners where the Ireland manager was asking the folks at his table what their plans were in 5 and 10 years—expecting (and often getting) answers that involved steps on the way to division manager and business unit president.
My answer is simple. I want to be alive.
I may be lucky to have this great big-picture perspective where the little things don’t matter, but I’m struggling to define what does matter. There’s got to be some equilibrium point between just wanting to be alive and focusing on the best way to live on a day-to-day basis to achieve future goals. I need to find some way to balance getting on with my life with taking time to reflect on how this experience has affected and changed me (whoanelly, gidup).
I don’t know how to do that.
What I do know, however, is that even if I’m not completely “better,” it’s all so, so relative-- turning 34 is a milestone... and that, more importantly, this village deserves to party.